"Harry Harrison & Robert Sheckley - Bill the Galactic Hero 3 " - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

don't throw the eggshells on the grass.'"
"And in the other one?" Bill asked, feigning interest.
"In the other it translates to, 'Tickle knees on the Steppes.'"
"Sounds a lot of bowb either way."
"A cogent observation that is entirely possible," the translator agreed.
Well, he could figure out what they were saying later. For now, he was entranced by the sights below
him. Looking through the transparent hull of his drone ship, he could see bright flowers of enormous size
blossoming from the surface of Tsuris.
"Pretty nice shtuff," he said, wishing he had another drink.
"Aren't you going to take evasive action?" the translator asked him.
"Why bother? Ish nice to look at the flowers down there."
"Flowers my silicon ass!" the translator said with great agitation. "Those red things are high explosives.
They're shooting torpedoes at us!"
That's all it took to bring Bill out of his stupor, cold sober and in a cold sweat. Shooting at him? Suddenly
he remembered the mission. Then his little drone ship bucked violently.
"Mayday. Mayday!" screamed the translator. The ship started to plunge and careen and cartwheel and
spin and tumble, all the things that spaceships do when they're hit. Bill grabbed for a stanchion and
missed, he still wasn't that sober, and hit his head. The darkness of unconsciousness instantly descended.
Which was not such a bad thing, considering what happened next.
Bill's ship disintegrated under the impact of atomic torpedoes.
"A gravchute," he muttered when he stumbled back to consciousness. "That's nice."
As he dropped gently through the clinging mists, which of course were the clouds that forever veil Tsuris,
especially if you're trying to take pictures of the planet, he looked down and saw that the ground seemed
to be coming up very fast. Was the gravchute working properly? Weren't there supposed to be controls on
it somewhere?
He fumbled and cursed but before he could find them the ground came up and struck him and merciful


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 Bill, the Galactic Hero on the Planet of Bottled Brains

unconsciousness drew its cloak about him yet one more time.


Chapter 2
Bill returned reluctantly to consciousness. He discovered that he was floating in a lukewarm nutrient
bath. Its specific gravity was such that his head just bobbled above the surface without his having to make
any positive effort to keep himself afloat. It felt very nice. He blinked up at the multicolored lights
overhead. Watching them glitter and shine reminded Bill of the happy Fundamentalist Zoroastrian Winter
Solstice Defloration Festival, that the nonbelievers called Christmas, back home. A tear formed in either
eye, dribbled down his nose and dropped into the nutrient solution.
Immediately an alarm went off. Or something that might be an alarm; a raucous electronic flatus. A
person hurried grotesquely into the room. At least Bill supposed it was a person. It might have been a
robot, or anything between a person and a robot. Or a thing. It was mainly composed of a large sphere
about three feet in diameter. From its underside there depended four skinny black legs. On top of the
sphere was another sphere, smaller, and a still smaller one above that. What were these spheres made of?
Bill hiccupped lightly and realized that he didn't really care. It was nice and comfy here in the warm bath.
A tickle of worry tickled him. Maybe he should care, trapped in a bubble bath on this alien planet. He
looked again. The spheres seemed to be a combination of metal and pink-colored flesh. There was a
smiley face painted on the uppermost sphere where a face would be if this was anything human.